I came across a link on the NASA web site today labeled, Heliophysics. I mentally parsed the word and reasoned that it must refer to the physics of the sun. Before clicking that button, I contemplated whether or not the content behind that link would be interesting to me.
The sun, of course, can be quite exciting to study. It has hot regions and cold regions (if you can call them that). It spontaneously ejects jets of plasma into space. It has things like a solar wind, a sunspot cycle, and electromagnetic events that cause frustrated, oblivious Earthlings to repeatedly poke at the touch screens of their smart phones and curse their carriers.
So, I sat there staring at the Heliophysics button, considering the reality that there is an ancient, yet perpetual nuclear explosion that is 1.3 million times bigger than the Earth, that is contained only by its own gravity, that is erupting a mere 8 light minutes from me, and from which I am protected only by the Earth’s magnetic core, a thin layer of atmosphere, and a generous slathering of Coppertone™. I reasoned, therefore, that the study of the sun could, in fact, be quite exciting.
As my mouse pointer drew close to Heliophysics, another thought occurred to me that made me pause.
I have found that, in the study of my Bible, I am often trapped by the study of the written words, extricating ancient, yet perpetual truths from reinterpreted texts written only a few millennia ago. (As I grow older, a thousand years seems less like ancient history and more like “just before the cowboy days,” which were practically just yesterday.) This in-depth, eugenical investigation of words and origins can distract me from the Bible’s real meaning. Each inspired syllable seems to deserve its own investigation, and so I consider the word and cross-reference it and Google it and effectively lose the meaning of the sentence for the sake of the definition of the word.
It’s as if I've decided to study the forest, and I start with the forest floor and dig deeper and deeper and suddenly realize that I’m studying a hole I've dug for myself, and I no longer see the forest.
I think that in-depth Bible study is vital. The closer we can get to the original meaning of the written word, the better we can understand the true meaning of the Bible. But, too often, I find the study begins to supersede the substance. I will sit for hours untangling a single sentence, and miss the meaning of the chapter in context. The micro view of the scriptures should support the macro view, not obliterate it.
My pointer still hovered over Heliophysics. To click, or not to click? If I were to embark on a study of the physics of the sun, would I lose my love of sunset skies drenched in reds, oranges and purples? Would my sunrises signal another day of hope and anticipation, or would I wake each morning and log on to find out if a Coronal Mass Ejection (CME) had occurred overnight so I could prepare for any cell phone or satellite interruptions I might experience?
What to do?
Yes, of course, I clicked the link! Ultimately, the awe-inspiring beauty of a sunset cannot be obscured by the physics that generate it any more than the beauty of the message of the Bible can be obscured by the words that describe it. Even if I find myself wrestling with words in scripture, the stark beauty of the Word will eventually grab my attention, just as a blazing sunset will wrest my eyes from an article on Heliophysics. The raw beauty of a sunset or scripture simply takes my breath away. Science inspires the mind to know more, but the effect captivates and feeds the soul, and the two are not mutually exclusive. I clicked the link, and this evening’s sunset was still amazing. In this, I know that as I lie down and study my Bible tonight, I will be amazed.
The sun, of course, can be quite exciting to study. It has hot regions and cold regions (if you can call them that). It spontaneously ejects jets of plasma into space. It has things like a solar wind, a sunspot cycle, and electromagnetic events that cause frustrated, oblivious Earthlings to repeatedly poke at the touch screens of their smart phones and curse their carriers.
So, I sat there staring at the Heliophysics button, considering the reality that there is an ancient, yet perpetual nuclear explosion that is 1.3 million times bigger than the Earth, that is contained only by its own gravity, that is erupting a mere 8 light minutes from me, and from which I am protected only by the Earth’s magnetic core, a thin layer of atmosphere, and a generous slathering of Coppertone™. I reasoned, therefore, that the study of the sun could, in fact, be quite exciting.
As my mouse pointer drew close to Heliophysics, another thought occurred to me that made me pause.
I have found that, in the study of my Bible, I am often trapped by the study of the written words, extricating ancient, yet perpetual truths from reinterpreted texts written only a few millennia ago. (As I grow older, a thousand years seems less like ancient history and more like “just before the cowboy days,” which were practically just yesterday.) This in-depth, eugenical investigation of words and origins can distract me from the Bible’s real meaning. Each inspired syllable seems to deserve its own investigation, and so I consider the word and cross-reference it and Google it and effectively lose the meaning of the sentence for the sake of the definition of the word.
It’s as if I've decided to study the forest, and I start with the forest floor and dig deeper and deeper and suddenly realize that I’m studying a hole I've dug for myself, and I no longer see the forest.
I think that in-depth Bible study is vital. The closer we can get to the original meaning of the written word, the better we can understand the true meaning of the Bible. But, too often, I find the study begins to supersede the substance. I will sit for hours untangling a single sentence, and miss the meaning of the chapter in context. The micro view of the scriptures should support the macro view, not obliterate it.
My pointer still hovered over Heliophysics. To click, or not to click? If I were to embark on a study of the physics of the sun, would I lose my love of sunset skies drenched in reds, oranges and purples? Would my sunrises signal another day of hope and anticipation, or would I wake each morning and log on to find out if a Coronal Mass Ejection (CME) had occurred overnight so I could prepare for any cell phone or satellite interruptions I might experience?
What to do?
Yes, of course, I clicked the link! Ultimately, the awe-inspiring beauty of a sunset cannot be obscured by the physics that generate it any more than the beauty of the message of the Bible can be obscured by the words that describe it. Even if I find myself wrestling with words in scripture, the stark beauty of the Word will eventually grab my attention, just as a blazing sunset will wrest my eyes from an article on Heliophysics. The raw beauty of a sunset or scripture simply takes my breath away. Science inspires the mind to know more, but the effect captivates and feeds the soul, and the two are not mutually exclusive. I clicked the link, and this evening’s sunset was still amazing. In this, I know that as I lie down and study my Bible tonight, I will be amazed.
